


Skin Deep

by Artrix



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Implied/Unspoken Feelings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-04 21:33:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11563755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artrix/pseuds/Artrix
Summary: Trevor had never had a problem knowing a human from a monster before he met Alucard. In the matter of a day he finds himself questioning what Alucard is—and what Alucard is to him.





	Skin Deep

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the request: “where Trevor observes Alucard and slowly realizes that he is not his father or like any other creature of the night he's encountered? Like he realizes that Alucard is good and might even realize that he's fallen a little bit in love with him.”

Trevor had kept his eye on Alucard since the moment he’d met him. He’d spent his whole life training to fight creatures of the night and _vampires_ were sort of the Belmont specialty. It had started as self-preservation: keep your eye on him and make sure he wasn’t a threat to them. Make sure he wasn’t sneaking around and wasn’t going to come from behind in a sneak attack.

Trevor held no illusion that Alucard was unaware of the scrutiny he was under, but he never buckled. Sometimes, their gaze would meet; Trevor would glower but Alucard would simply observe him and then direct his attention elsewhere.

Their first destination was to be Gresit; while the attack on Dracula’s castle was unavoidable, it would have been foolish to launch any attack on him straight from Alucard’s lair. Trevor and Sypha had no supplies and were more than weary after their battle with the last wave of demons unleashed on the town.

Sypha wanted to check on the speakers, and Trevor supposed he should make sure that the townspeople were well enough to survive another attack. Now that he had decided to care again, it was a burden on his conscience.

Alucard had no place in Gresit but he understood the position of his companions and offered no argument to their plans. He silently led them through the hidden corridors and stairs, out of the underground domain and towards the city. 

It took a little over an hour, but Trevor supposed it could have taken a day or longer if he’d been trying to navigate the labyrinth on his own. Having Alucard in their party came with the benefit of avoiding traps as well, but after he stopped them to point out the third one, Trevor had become suspicious.

He had imagined that Alucard was a monster, only biding his time until he could strike and destroy both of them, and yet at multiple points he had gone out of his way to make sure they passed through unscathed. 

It was odd, for a vampire.

And it only grew odder.

They reached Gresit; Sypha departed to return to the Speakers’ headquarters and Trevor promised to join her there shortly. Alucard lingered in the shadows as they made plans, and though he feigned indifference, Trevor could tell that he was eavesdropping.

Given their first interaction, Sypha was reluctant to leave the two, but Trevor assured her he wasn’t going to attack unless to defend himself. The sun was too high for Alucard to travel, or at least Trevor expected as much. The son of Dracula must have been a powerful vampire, but Alucard clung to the shadows even now.

Even if the sunlight was safe for Alucard, another stranger in Gresit would cause more concern than Trevor wanted, and he’d had more than enough attention already. The relationship he had with the townspeople was rocky at best; if the ones who had helped defend Gresit last night survived he wasn’t sure even they could defend him if he returned with a vampire in tow.

Begrudgingly, Sypha had left the two, too eager to see if the Speakers had survived the night.

When she departed, Trevor returned to Alucard.

“You stayed,” Alucard noted. Trevor could tell it was a question, but he couldn’t tell _why_.

“Gives me a bad name if there’s a vampire loose when a vampire hunter’s in town,” Trevor answered.

“Half,” Alucard replied after a moment.

Trevor had turned his attention to the town; the last staircase they had taken led them into a strange mausoleum. It was small and downtrodden, clearly neglected by the town for some time now. From here, he could see little movement and only a few buildings in the distance were even remotely familiar. Trevor looked over his shoulder. “Half what?”

“Half-Vampire,” Alucard answered. “You keep calling me vampire, but I’m not.”

“Half vampire is enough for me,” Trevor shrugged. “You’re still a monster.”

Alucard watched him with cold eyes but he seemed mostly unfazed. “I would have thought a hunter would be more understanding.”

“Than who?” he jeered his thumb towards the town. “Them? What put that thought in your head?”

Trevor had been trained to attack first and ask questions later, and only if you _really_ needed them. He might not have been the most hotheaded of the Belmont clan, but he certainly wasn’t the most compassionate. Especially not these days.

Alucard shrugged; he glanced around the mausoleum before dropping into a seated position. He moved with the familiarity of a vampire, with that strangely unearthly grace. He was long limbed and appeared deceptively delicate. Trevor had learned long ago that just because a vampire appeared fragile didn’t mean they couldn’t put up a fight.

And yet, there _was_ something different about him. On the surface, he was limber. Beautiful, but masculine. He had the fangs, the piercing eyes, the inhuman speed.

Trevor had not truly met a half breed before. They had time to spare, so he turned to face him. “Would you prefer the term ‘Dhampir’, then?”

“It makes no difference,” Alucard answered.

Trevor sensed that it did, and for the time being Alucard was more interesting than the ruins of Gresit. He turned to face him only, instead of sitting, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. “What’s it like, then?”

Alucard raised a brow. “You’ll have to elaborate, Belmont.”

“Being a vampire. Or, at least, half of one.”

For a second, Trevor supposed Alucard wouldn’t answer, but finally the man just hummed thoughtfully. “What’s it like being a Hunter?”

Trevor pursed his lips disdainfully and grunted, “I asked first.”

Alucard sighed. He seemed exasperated, and Trevor found himself somewhat enjoying the vampire— _half-vampire_ —look so uncomfortable.

“It is all I’ve ever known. I have little to compare it to. It isn’t as though I was born a human and my father changed me.”

“Are you as fast as a vampire? As strong? If I _had_ staked you through the heart, would it have worked? Does the sun heart you the same? Or, holy water?”

Alucard leaned back against the wall. “You have a lot of questions.”

“I’m a hunter, that’s the smart thing to do. Was I supposed to accept you blindly? I don’t believe in the stories as much as Sypha. For all I know, this is all some _trick_.”

“I suppose,” Alucard replied, but he didn’t sound like he agreed. For a moment he was quiet, weighing his options. He could keep his silence, deny Trevor his answers, and maintain their mutual distrust. Or, he could answer, and try to pave the way for a better relationship. “I have met only a few vampires in my lifetime. My father, and a few remnants of his forces. He has followers, but I have never engaged them in battle. I am faster than a human, stronger than a human, but when my father and I last fought I was entirely outmatched. He has had many years to cultivate his abilities.”

Trevor nodded. “And you haven’t?”

Alucard shrugged. “Most of my childhood was spent with my mother. She didn’t believe in warfare in the same way my father did.”

“Your mother was human,” Trevor mused. He had only known that they burned Dracula’s wife at the stake. He did not know her name or function or status. “Was she really a witch?”

“No,” Alucard answered coldly. “She was a woman of science, who valued knowledge and cared for others. The only pact she ever made was one of love, to my father. There was no allegiance to demon or devil.”

Trevor nodded. “So, just a human, then. A straight up human.”

“Just a human,” Alucard confirmed.

Trevor kept quiet, watching the look of pain that crossed the blonde’s face. _That_ made him seem more human that he was. “So the stake,” he reminded.

“Perhaps it would have killed me. It would have killed a human, and it would have killed a lesser vampire. I don’t know where I fall, but considering my father,” he shrugged. “You may have actually killed me with it. Holy water, I don’t know. I have never come in contact with it.”

“My whip is consecrated. If you had been a lesser vampire, you would have fallen under the first hit.”

“Then you have your answer, there.”

Trevor barely acknowledged the answer; instead, he focused on the shadowy wall Alucard had settled under. It seemed that he had chosen that location specifically. No sunlight touched him now, and the threat of a stray beam of light hitting him as the sun set appeared minimal, at best. So Trevor asked, “And sunlight?”

Alucard shook his head. “An inconvenience, but little more. When I am at my full strength, at least. My father,” his hand moved to the scar on his chest, “weakened me more than I care to admit. I do not see the point in taking unnecessary risks.”

Trevor shrugged. “So you can walk among humans, you can pass as one?”

Reluctantly, Alucard replied, “Yes.”

It wasn’t an answer that seemed to please Trevor; he scowled and sighed heavily. “How much blood do you need?”

“You’ve asked me a lot of questions, Hunter. I’ve answered yours, but you haven’t answered mine.”

Rolling his eyes, Trevor sighed. “I hunt. It’s hunting. It’s been in my family for generations. ‘It’s all that I know’,” he parroted. 

Alucard was unsatisfied with the answer and waited patiently, with a gaze that said he would _continue_ to wait patiently. Ordinarily, the expression might have been enough to elicit some snarky response from Trevor, but something about those golden eyes made him pause.

Made him want to answer.

Trevor pressed closer to the wall and continued, “My parents were both hunters. My father was of the Belmont line and my mother the daughter of a nomadic line of hunters. She came from further west, and by chance they met. Hunting the same beast.”

“A vampire?” Alucard suggested.

“Werewolf,” Trevor corrected. “I’m told they were quite a team, when they hunted together. But after I was born, she stayed home and my father did the hunting and she protected the homestead. I learned to walk, to talk, like all children, and when I was eight, I learned to hunt.”

“Eight is so young.” Alucard almost sounded sympathetic.

Trevor squinted. “What of it? How old were you?”

Alucard shrugged. “I don’t know. I learned abilities that manifest best in battle when I was young, but back then I wasn’t applying them to more than mischief. I suppose I was at least in my first decade when my father started teaching me to hunt for myself.”

The words clearly put Trevor on edge; he stiffened and ground the heel of his boot into the ground. Eager to dispel the hunter’s rising concern, Alucard clarified, “There were many beasts about the castle. For the time that he knew my mother, my father curbed his appetite. We hunted the creatures in the forest. I learned to live off of them.”

“And your mother didn’t mind that her son was a leech?”

“My mother loved me,” Alucard insisted with a hostility Trevor had not expected. It was not difficult to see that Alucard loved his mother—a strange trait for a monster.

Which made Trevor question if, perhaps, Alucard even _was_ one. The hunter was not so easily swayed and reminded himself that monsters came in all shapes and sizes—and if Alucard was the son of _Vlad Dracula Tepes_ , he wasn’t anyone to be taken lightly or trusted so easily.

“I am less of a monster than some of the humans I’ve met. Less of a monster than the ones who took her life. I wish no harm on them. Do not forget, I could have attacked them. I could have taken vengeance on them then and there.”

Then and there.

Trevor’s curiosity was piqued once again. He relaxed, just slightly, and raised a brow. “Were you there?”

Alucard was less eager to answer than Trevor was to ask. A shadow crossed his face, betraying the pain he clearly felt. His voice was quiet and brittle and made Trevor think of cracking glass. Alucard answered only, “Yes.”

“You were there, and you did nothing?”

“How could I?”

“Did you even try?”

It was a difficult topic; for all the emotions Alucard had repressed, he could not swallow these. His collected demeanor faltered, revealing raw sorrow. To hide his face, he shook his head. “She begged me not to.”

It was not the answer Trevor expected; he tilted his head slightly to the side and tried to see what Alucard wanted to hide. “What?”

“Humans, she said, live burdened with enough hardship. She begged that I forgive them.”

Trevor’s eyes narrowed. “And did you?”

This, Alucard seemed firm on. “I am trying.”

Which made Alucard more empathetic than he was.

When Trevor had lost his family to the villagers, the church, he resented them. He carried the burden of guilt and rage with him, even now, though he tried to push it far away. Not too long ago he was willing to let the people of Gresit suffer, willing to let all of Wallachia suffer. Now, he was determined to help—no matter how little the people may have deserved his aid.

Any man could lie, but any monster could lie better. Trevor was adept at sniffing out falsehoods and digging for the truth. He wanted to believe that Alucard was a monster through and through, but watching him made it hard to categorize him so easily.

Alucard’s eyes drifted to the filthy ground they sat on and his brows furrowed again. His lips were pursed, and if Trevor’s eyes didn’t deceive him, he could have sworn he saw wetness in Alucard’s golden eyes. 

That, probably, was what he was trying to hide.

“How old are you?”

Alucard did not look up. “Two decades, about.”

A year of which he’d spent sleeping.

It didn’t suit the man; Alucard had an ethereal beauty about him. He was already ageless in the way that only the immortals could be, and he carried himself with a regality not often found in youth.

Trevor was older when he lost his family but it didn’t mean the pain was any less fresh. Alucard was younger than him and appeared to be handling the death of his mother with far more grace than Trevor dealt with loss. Trevor had been alone, the last of his bloodline. Alucard was not yet an orphan, though it was hard to tell what he felt for his father.

Dracula may still live, but father or not, they would fight. Alucard understood that they meant to kill him, but it was necessary. It was the only way to stop the plague of death and despair.

The thought pain Alucard but if he was in turmoil he hid it well behind his porcelain mask.

There was something fragile about Alucard; if he had been a human, Trevor would have admired him. He felt a strange kinship, a _softness_ for him. 

They were the last sons of long-lived families, with the burden of legacy thrust upon their shoulders. Only, the Belmonts hunted monsters, and Alucard was bred from one.

Though, Trevor had to consider, some monsters were born—but others were made.

Even a human could tread the path of darkness, despite a purer heritage. There were Belmonts missing from the family history, and Trevor had learned long ago not to ask of them. 

Alucard walked a thin line between human and monster, but men were not infallible. The odds were stacked against the so very _young_ man in front of him, and yet, Alucard defied them. If he had been a human, Trevor wouldn’t have hesitated to stand beside him in this quest. 

Instead, he questioned his motives and watched his every move.

This whole thing was confusing; Trevor wished things could go back to the black and white of the world, when things were easy. Before the Belmonts were excommunicated and ostracized it was easy to tell who the monsters were. Now, he saw just saw evil in everyone.

Except, maybe, the Speakers, who shared the same general goal, even if they went about achieving it differently than he did.

And, maybe, except in Alucard, who he still wasn’t sure of.

They fell into a dull silence for the rest of the day; Alucard sat like a marble statue as he waited for the sun to dip away and Trevor, despite his best efforts, eventually joined him in sitting on the floor and succumbed to a light nap.

Trevor did not usually sleep deep enough to dream, and even then what dreams he had were never more than nightmares. It was an oddity then, that he dreamed of pretty gold eyes and pale white fingers, and a soft laugh by his ear that sent butterflies to his stomach.

When Trevor awoke, night was falling.

Alucard waited patiently, right where Trevor had last seen him.

Trevor’s first thought upon waking was the realization that Alucard hadn’t killed him in his sleep. He stiffened, ignoring the sudden rush of blood that pulsed through him as his mind registered how exposed he’d left himself. Alucard looked at him with what might have been concern.

Of course he could have heard his heartbeat from over there.

There wasn’t any way Trevor could just play it off; he grunted and forced himself to his feet. “We should go soon.”

Alucard nodded and rose as well. “Are you rested?”

“Enough,” Trevor replied. He moved towards the entrance of the mausoleum, but as he passed by Alucard he found himself reaching for the man’s wrist. It wasn’t until he was two steps out that he realized he had taken hold of it.

And that Alucard had followed without protest or complaint.

It had seemed second nature, no different than when he took Sypha’s hand to draw her away from traps and debris only hours before. 

He didn’t know why he did it, but he looked back at Alucard. 

Who was looking at him curiously, but with no disdain.

Trevor grunted and forced himself to release the hand. “Keep up. If you get left behind, I won’t come back for you.”

Except, Trevor realized, he probably would have.

-

The speakers were reluctant to welcome Alucard into their domain, but Sypha had spent the day defending him and citing their stories. They weren’t quite cold to him when he stepped into their crumbling shelter, but neither did they seem to make much effort to make him comfortable. The conversation seemed all business; Trevor let them speak, preferring to observe their body language instead of insert himself into their conversation. 

Someone had procured ingredients for stew and he shamelessly helped himself to it. Gresit was celebrating its survival, in its own downtrodden way.

They had survived the night because of him, and Sypha. No one had seen a demon yet tonight; there were no screams from the town, no glowing eyes in the darkness.

Alucard was on edge though; he seemed to stand deliberately in front of the door.

At first, Trevor thought it was in case he needed to make a quick getaway, but Alucard seemed to have rooted himself there. He was in a defensive stance, prepared to attack, but his head was cocked just slightly to the side. If Alucard had been looking straight ahead, he’d have been staring at the wall. Instead, he had to work to keep an eye on the Speakers as they conversed.

It wasn’t the easiest way to hold any discussion, and Trevor knew that Alucard wasn’t shy enough to be deliberately avoiding eye contact.

Alucard was listening to the world outside as much as he was listening to the conversation in the room. He was alert.

Attentive.

Alucard flinched a second before the distant sound of a scream reached Trevor’s ears. The speakers hadn’t even seemed to hear it, but his hand instinctively went to his whip. Alucard caught the movement and their eyes met. They needed no words; Alucard turned and slipped through the door. Trevor followed.

-

It was too late to save the woman. A demon had slaughtered her before they had reached her. It wasn’t a wasteful death this time, though. The demon was devouring her meatier parts in the middle of the alleyway. Two more demons crawled on the walls, oblivious to their approaching doom.

Their deaths were swift, even without the assistance of Sypha’s magic. The battle was almost painfully easy; the demon that Trevor targeted lasted all of two seconds before it came into contact with his whip. The strength behind the blow was enough to cleave its torso in two, and the holy magic tied into the whip burned like acid.

One target down, Trevor sought to face another only to find that Alucard had dispatched one already, and the third demon had already lunged towards him.

Alucard displayed no fear; he was prepared for this.

Trevor would give him this.

Besides, it was as good of an excuse as any to take a moment and observe him. Now that he wasn’t on the receiving end of Alucard’s attacks, it was easier to appreciate them.

Truly, Alucard was a magnificent creature. He was impressive in all aspects.

Trevor watched as the blonde wielded his sword with the experience expected of a professional and yet he delivered each action the grace of a dancer. Every move was intentional, calculated and delivered expertly. Skill of that nature should have taken years to master, and yet Alucard was younger than him.

There was a lot to admire.

Trevor’s mind halted, suddenly; his thoughts had taken a dangerous turn. He had to shake his head and jerk his mind back to the present.

Even as Alucard severed the head of the last demon, Trevor couldn’t look at him the same as he had before. It was stupid and irrational; he had never been under someone’s spell before. Twelve hours ago and he was waiting for Alucard to attack while his back was turned. Now, he was watching to make sure Alucard’s back was covered.

It didn’t make sense.

But then, nothing had really made sense since he got to Gresit.

This place was as cursed as his bloodline. 

He didn’t secure his whip to his belt; he kept it in his hand and ready to wield. Alucard was not so careful and sheathed his sword as soon as the demon’s body was finished twitching on the ground. 

“None of these demons can be allowed to return to the castle,” Alucard announced. “If my father knows I have awakened…”

Trevor waited for Alucard to finish the thought but after too long a pause, he scowled. “If you’re so worried about your father finding out, you shouldn’t have come out. I could have handled these demons. You being here didn’t save her,” he said, nodding towards the woman on the ground.

Alucard raised one brow and eyed Trevor with an expression that immediately made the man suspicious. “I didn’t come for her,” Alucard answered slowly.

At first, Trevor didn’t understand. It took him more time than he cared to admit to realize that Alucard’s gaze wasn’t quite on him. He followed Alucard’s gaze and turned to look behind him. His eyes landed on a girl, perhaps only as tall as his knee, cowering behind a splintered barrel.

A child. Covered in the blood of her mother, who must have fought desperately to shield her from the attack. There was a makeshift tent halfway down the street, but it wouldn’t have provided any protection from these attacks.

“Shit,” Trevor muttered to no one but himself. He raised a hand up to rub at his eyes.

Alucard never faltered. He moved past Trevor and knelt before the girl. Someone, he offered a kinder smile than Trevor could remember seeing in a _long_ time.

It was wrong. All of it.

Trevor’s heart skipped a beat, and the little girl must have, too.

She was old enough that she must have understood that her mother was dead, but the tears trailing down her face seemed to dry up. Her lips trembled, but she stared at Alucard and held out a hand for him.

He took it.

Trevor didn’t _do_ kids. He was not given much special treatment in his own youth, and he’d been pushed hard to be a soldier. He remembered spots of compassion, but the Belmonts were raised to rise above all obstacles. Tough love wasn’t such a foreign thought to him, but even as a child he hadn’t been like the others.

He didn’t know how to deal with them.

But Alucard did. He scooped the girl up to his chest, hiding her face from the horrors of the world. 

With such tenderness.

It wasn’t a ploy, it couldn’t have been. Alucard wasn’t playing the part of savior, he simply _was_ a savior. Trevor likened him to a lion sheltering a sheep. There was no way for him to reach his sword if they were attacked; he had one arm wrapped around the girl’s middle and the other her back, hand resting on her head to keep her close.

Like he actually cared about her well-being. Like consoling her, embracing her, was truly his priority.

“Why are you doing that?” Trevor asked quietly, crossing the distance between the two.

Alucard did not immediately answer; his eyes were half-lidded and he seemed distracted. “Humans are burdened with enough hardship.” He recited. His mother’s words, Trevor recognized. But, Alucard added, “I would save those that I could.”

“Why?” Trevor asked again, this time with more desperation. “Why do you care about _any_ of them?” Stopping the demons was one thing. Consoling children? Entirely different. “For all you know, her parents could have supported the church. The church that killed _your_ mother.”

Alucard never wavered. His golden eyes found Trevor’s and for as impassive an expression as Alucard seemed to wear, there was _something_ there that softened Trevor’s heart. Gently, Alucard asked, “Is she to blame for the choices of her parents?”

No.

There was more meaning to Alucard’s words than Trevor wanted to admit, and he was met with an uncomfortable truth.

He had never hunted a half vampire before because he had never _met_ one before. They weren’t easy to spot; when people were killed, you could usually trace it back to the monster responsible. Dhampirs were either few and far between, or so alike humans that they were nearly undetectable to most hunters.

If Dracula had not laid waste to Wallachia, he might not have ever met Alucard and, if he _had_ ever crossed paths with him, he might never have known what blood pulsed through his veins. The teeth were a giveaway, but Alucard must have had some way to retract them; there were no signs of his fangs in this moment. He was not floating, not wielding a flying sword.

He was beautiful, but Trevor might not have thought much of that if they’d passed each other on the street.

Alucard was only a monster to him because he knew who his father was.

“No,” Trevor finally muttered. “I suppose she is not to blame. But we follow in the footsteps of our parents all the same.”

Alucard nodded. “I choose to walk the path of my mother.”

His mother, the doctor. The woman who had tamed the beast, the _Prince of Darkness_ , who would command armies of the damned and unleash hell on Earth. The woman who had stolen his heart, who had _married_ him.

“Your mother must have been one hell of a woman.”

It caught Alucard by surprise. He was used to Trevor saying stupid things by now, or prodding at what weak points he could find. He expected some cynicism or cruelty, but Trevor had said all that he meant. “She was,” he replied cautiously.

Trevor nodded. “Perhaps you have more of her in you than I realized.”

It wasn’t an apology, but there was something there that Alucard took to heart. He bowed his head slightly in gratitude and turned away from the hunter, still cradling the child gently. “We should return to the speakers. They will know what to do with her.”

Trevor glanced at the bodies on the ground, eager enough to leave them behind. 

Eager enough to see what else Alucard had in store.

Trevor was a beast, himself. Not in the degree that Dracula was, and though he was loathe to admit that they shared any similarities, he wondered how long it took him to fall for Alucard’s mother.

It couldn’t have taken too much time; a monster like Dracula would have seen her as prey in a matter of seconds. She would have had to make quite an impression to change his opinions of humans.

Just as Alucard needed to make quite an impression for Trevor to change his opinions of vampires.

Or, at least, half-vampires.

Trevor moved to follow the man, eyes on his back.

Not out of disdain or distrust, but curiosity. 

There was something about Alucard that he couldn’t explain. Something that made him want to talk, want to get to know him. Want to understand him.

Something that made his heart pound.

It was too early to label the feeling, but there was something blossoming in the pit of his stomach, for this creature capable of so much compassion and tenderness.

But, if Dracula could love a human, he wondered who Alucard could love.

And if any Belmont could ever forgive him for entertaining the thought that it could have been him.

**Author's Note:**

> I am sorry if this feels rushed! I realized halfway through that it would have been better if I’d had them spend more time together before any feelings might blossom, but I didn’t want to start too late in the story and spoil anything people might not know from the games. I didn’t want to stop writing and scrap this, though! I might revisit this prompt at a later time or tie it into another story. I was intending for this to be a one shot so I am not sure if I want to write any more for it, but I don't know if I've made up my mind yet!
> 
> I have had a few requests that I haven’t gotten to yet, but if anyone has sent one in and read this, I do plan to fill all the requests I have gotten so far! Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> (If you have any requests, please check out my profile for information!)


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